


fuckin whoops

by katrinawritesthings



Category: SHINee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11637972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrinawritesthings/pseuds/katrinawritesthings
Summary: 1 tie ur babe to the bed with a vibe in the booty2 leave them there alone to wiggle and edge3 fucking forget about them for an hour nd a half“Shit shit shit, oh my fucking god,” Taemin hisses as he scuttles down the hallway.tumblr





	fuckin whoops

“Have a good night’s sleep for less…,” Taemin hums, eyes half closed as the commercial plays in front of him. “ _Mattress discounters,_ ” he breathes. It turns into a yawn halfway through and he lifts his hand to smother it. When he lowers his hand he wiggles it into his bag of chips, pulling another out and popping it into his mouth. He lost count but he thinks he’s only supposed to eat one or two more before he hits his daily limit. He doesn’t want to run out before the next shopping trip again. **  
**

“Coming up next,” the tv says, and then lists a few shows that Taemin doesn’t care about. He just wants his third tacky judge show to come back on. These commercials seem longer than usual. He picks up his water bottle and takes a sip, blandly waiting for the next commercial to finish. It’s some tacky tax commercial now, with some badly animated lamp genie there to grant some dude’s wishes of easy completion before the deadline.

“You’re welcome, master,” the genie on screen says, and Taemin can’t stop the little grin that creeps onto his face. _Master._ What a fucking word. He prefers “sir,” himself. It feels more casual and he loves the way it sounds coming out of Jonghyun’s mouth, when his voice is all shaky and–

“Shit,” Taemin says loudly, sitting up lightning fast with a heavy flash of panic. His whole body tingles with anxiety heat as he twists on the couch to look down the hallway with wide eyes.  _“Shit,_ ” he hisses again, and doesn’t even stop to pick up the dropped remote when he launches himself off of the couch.

“Shit shit shit, oh my fucking god,” he hisses as he scuttles down the hallway. “I don’t fucking  _believe_ you fucking–” He stops himself short outside of the bedroom door, not wanting his voice to carry over inside. He puts his hand on the wall to steady himself as he tries to quickly slow his breathing.  _Two and a half fucking episodes_ , his brain reminds him unhelpfully. He closes his eyes, clenches his fists, and forces himself to take several deep, heavy breaths until he doesn’t look and sound like he just fucked up big time. Only then does he rub his hand over his face to school it into an attempt at a controlled smile and gently push the door open.

Inside, the light is dim, a warm orange glow from a lamp in the corner and some fake candles on the headboard. The air smells thick of vanilla and cinnamon from the candle warmers set on the dresser. The only sounds come from Jonghyun, heavy, measured, shaking breathing from where he’s tied up on the bed.

Taemin swallows looking at him, body sweaty, legs held up and open by a harness hooked up to the four poster hangings, wrists bound to a hook above his head. The pretty, sparkly jewel set into the stop of the plug in his ass glimmers in the light, every time Jonghyun moves with breaths and twitches. His cock is thick and hard, curved up to his stomach, dripping a slow puddle of precome onto his toned skin. He’s not whimpering now, but Taemin can just tell, from the low buzz coming from the toy, to the way Jonghyun’s fingers rub slowly over the side of the control in his hand, to the way he swallows and licks his lips and curls his toes and scrunches his eyes shut, that he’s been easing himself out of an edge for at least a few minutes.

The only thing that lessens the guilt in Taemin’s stomach a tiny bit is the slack, lazy, blissed out smile on his lips. Of course the fucking walnut is over the moon about being left on his own in here like this for so long. He’s been begging Taemin to leave him alone for longer for months. Taemin is highly doubtful that this is how he meant for it to happen.

He’s also highly doubtful that Jonghyun even heard him come in. He takes another few slow breaths before he shuts the door behind him and hopes that Jonghyun is too hazy and tired to notice his smile is less smooth than usual.

“Hey, puppo,” he hums, sliding up to sit on the edge of the bed. Jonghyun blinks slowly at him, smile curving up even wider, and twitches when Taemin runs a hand over his warm chest.

“Hello, sir,” he breathes. “I’ve been good.”

“Have you?” Taemin asks, cocking a brow. He can’t fucking _look_  at Jonghyun’s soft, pretty, adoring face like this so he looks instead at Jonghyun’s arms, muscles strained and wrists just a tiny bit red from the cloth around them. “You stayed in position this whole time?” he asks, smoothing his hand up Jonghyun’s arms to his hands. He takes the silk and gently unhooks it, bringing Jonghyun’s arms down and untying it slowly, purposefully dragging it over Jonghyun’s skin to make him shiver.

“Yes, sir,” Jonghyun says, nodding eagerly as Taemin takes the vibe controller away from him. Taemin hums shortly, clicks it up to the level above whatever Jonghyun had it at, and waits for him to finish his short, sharp breath and wiggle.

“Are you sure?” he asks, letting his voice harden in that stern way that reminds Jonghyun that lying isn’t allowed. Usually it’s for punishments, but this time it’s because Taemin fucking  _hopes_  that Jonghyun didn’t spend over an hour like this. God. He rubs Jonghyun’s shoulders, massaging them, soothing whatever soreness is bound to be in them, as Jonghyun hums and bites his lip.

“Mmm,” he hums. “I put my legs down. For a little bit. Once,” he mumbles. “They got a little tingly. Sir.” Taemin tsks to hide a wince. Shit. Fuck. Damn it.

“How are they now?” he asks, turning away to trail his fingers down Jonghyun’s stomach and up his shaky thighs. He stands up, reaching for the harness to unhook Jonghyun’s ankles one at a time instead of making him lift the whole bar off of the hook.

“Good, sir,” Jonghyun smiles, stretching his legs out happily. Taemin hums, rubbing slow circles into them just to make sure. He massages Jonghyun’s muscles, and then moves to his inner thighs, rubbing so close to his cock and hole but not touching, not yet. He feels like he’s still a little too fucked up to get right back into the sex thing.

“You did well, then, baby,” he hums. He tugs one of Jonghyun’s knees up to kiss, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m so proud of you,” he says. And also so fucking sorry. Jonghyun’s smile is dazzling.

“Thanks,” he beams. “I’m soooo happy you let me do this, sir,” he breathes. “I feel so good and warm and….” He trails off into a little giggle, his leg falling limp against Taemin’s side. Taemin actually has a genuine chuckle for that, kissing his skin again and resting his cheek on Jonghyun’s knee. At least one of them feels good about this fuckup. “Real talk, Taem, before I forget,” Jonghyun says, and Taemin cocks a brow at their pause words. Jonghyun has his fingers in his hair, eyes closed but a soft, wide smile on his lips. “Can you leave me for this long from now on?” he asks.

Taemin snorts softly. Never fucking again, honestly.

“We’ll see,” he says, tapping Jonghyun’s thigh lightly twice to make him focus back on their scene.

Maybe, with ten reminder alarms on his phone.


End file.
